I D K

Cut people off

"Fuck..." Fiera groans while rubbing her forehead. It has a huge blinding red bump on it. 

Innocently I ask, "How did that happen?" She looks like murder and spits, "Tripped," I do my best to stifle a laugh. 

Jeremey's behind Fiera as if she'll explode in rage any minute. 

 His presence a tranquilizer. 

Jeremey's acting like he's a servant carrying Fiera's long elegant dress to prevent it from sweeping the floor. 

They really do keep each other in check, but I can't help but feel that Fiera is regarded as a queen in Jeremey's eyes. 

True love. Bullshit. Manipulation? Most likely. 

What's really going on between them?

 My thoughts are clouded when I catch Jack staring at me, questions burning behind his irises. 

He averts his eyes immediately. 

Ugh. 

Does Jack have a problem?

.    .    .

School's over, and I'm starving. Tomorrow's Mothers Day and I just found that out today.

 My friends were talking about what they were getting for their parents. 

"I'm getting my mom a card, ou! Breakfast in bed!" Vila chimed. 

Things have been rocky with my mom, I feel pretty apathetic to the situation. 

I wave bye to my group and walk home... But, Blake's blocking my way. 

I pull my black hood down and pretend I have no idea who he is. 

I need to leave quick! 

My shift at the bar, which I'd like to call the Grape Yard, starts in two. 

I fake a disgruntled cough and with throaty rasp pull out, "Um, excuse me," My voice is pretty high so it just sounded really weird, which is good, the stranger the more puzzling. 

"I know it's you," Blake whispers, I can't see a thing with my drooping hood, but I can tell his eyes are right in front of mine. 

The shield of black our only wall. 

Blake lifts up my hood hesitantly. 

Instantly, my eyes are bombarded with his quizzical, pain-stricken eyes slapping me in the face. 

"Is- is something wrong, did I upset you? I'm sorry I just don't understand..." he dives in. 

I need to maneuver him away from the school, the Deadlocks could be lurking around. 

I take his arm and haul him behind me. 

"What's going on-?" bellows exasperatedly.

.    .    .

Phew, we weren't followed. I fling open the bar door and drag Blake inside. 

Cain's chilling on his phone. His gaze shoots up to Blake, he immediately takes a protective stance. 

I wave my hand dismissively at him, signaling, Blake's no harm, for now. 

I loosen my grip from Blake's sweater. He spins and stops directly in front of me. 

His arms crossed in front of his chest, he looks miffed. 

"Look, I'm not avoiding you, I got a job at this bar and I just have no time," not a total lie. 

He nods, he understands since he works at the antique shop. 

"Kkkk..., I gotta go work now, see you later?" I shrug. 

Cain throws my apron over the counter, it has berry stains all over it. In one swift movement, I latch onto the apron and tie it around me with grace. 

I hook a thumb at the counter and spin on my heels, but Blake's gently tugging at one of my apron strings, stopping me. 

Reluctantly, I look back. His head is hanging low, brown bangs secluding his upper face. His lips are a bright red, slightly parted, I have the perfect movie shot. Do they taste like blood, cherries? Suddenly, I'm craving a berry drink devoid of Blake's saliva.

I lightly pry off Blake's fingers from the string, doing it in a laughing manner. I want him to think I think he's just joking around to help alleviate the stifling awkwardness. 

But, we both know, he's not joking, he's hurt, feels betrayed even. 

I hear Cain pull up behind me. "Your shift started," 

This makes Blake release the flimsy string and shuffle out of the bar. 

.    .    .

Whoop, whoop four day weekend, cut people off!!!!!